thessalian (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thessalian) wrote2007-08-30 08:05 am
thessalian) wrote2007-08-30 08:05 am
What a Pain
Running late and I don't care. This, frankly, is what flexitime is for.
Due to circumstances I'd rather not rant about right this second, I wound up too angry and frustrated to even contemplate going to bed until about half-two in the godsdamned morning. Then lay awake for at least a half-hour. The fact that I did not manage to crawl out of bed until about quarter to eight? Probably not surprising.
I have a screaming migraine, a flare-up of the stupid symptomatic hiatus hernia, intense tiredness and a general overall sense of impending dread. All I really want to do right now is sleep until Friday. Though I will settle for an end to the migraine and possibly something where my stomach doesn't feel like it's being tied in knots.
Still, the bosses are in today (I think - to be honest, I can never really tell, whatever their diaries say) and since they were in until 7pm yesterday (when the taxi I booked for them whisked them to the restaurant I also booked for them), there's likely a lot of stuff to sort out. So I'll head off and stop somewhere for painkillers and such on the way. I shouldn't be too late because there is the Tube, and I'm owed an hour's flexi on the grounds of having stayed until half-five yesterday so moving is not a massive priority. And besides, I can stay late to cover it ... provided I can move at all. Gods, I hurt.
I know, I know - whinge moan, moan whinge. The bonuses here, I suppose, involve having had dinner with mother last night during which she presented me with a metric buttload of new clothes. Less for me to have to buy, anyway. It's not all stuff I'd choose, but since when is work-stuff ever stuff I'd pick for myself? (I'd have veered away from the patterns more, personally, but fashion's weird.)
Anyway, I suppose I really should head off. I just want to go back to bed and forget the world exists for awhile. Is that so much to ask?
Due to circumstances I'd rather not rant about right this second, I wound up too angry and frustrated to even contemplate going to bed until about half-two in the godsdamned morning. Then lay awake for at least a half-hour. The fact that I did not manage to crawl out of bed until about quarter to eight? Probably not surprising.
I have a screaming migraine, a flare-up of the stupid symptomatic hiatus hernia, intense tiredness and a general overall sense of impending dread. All I really want to do right now is sleep until Friday. Though I will settle for an end to the migraine and possibly something where my stomach doesn't feel like it's being tied in knots.
Still, the bosses are in today (I think - to be honest, I can never really tell, whatever their diaries say) and since they were in until 7pm yesterday (when the taxi I booked for them whisked them to the restaurant I also booked for them), there's likely a lot of stuff to sort out. So I'll head off and stop somewhere for painkillers and such on the way. I shouldn't be too late because there is the Tube, and I'm owed an hour's flexi on the grounds of having stayed until half-five yesterday so moving is not a massive priority. And besides, I can stay late to cover it ... provided I can move at all. Gods, I hurt.
I know, I know - whinge moan, moan whinge. The bonuses here, I suppose, involve having had dinner with mother last night during which she presented me with a metric buttload of new clothes. Less for me to have to buy, anyway. It's not all stuff I'd choose, but since when is work-stuff ever stuff I'd pick for myself? (I'd have veered away from the patterns more, personally, but fashion's weird.)
Anyway, I suppose I really should head off. I just want to go back to bed and forget the world exists for awhile. Is that so much to ask?